Post Script
by L.M.Lewis
Summary: A little bit of running commentary from Tonto.


Disclaimer: These aren't my characters and I make no profit from them.

**Author's Note:** Barbara Johnson was Flip's daughter, and the person who gave McCormick the Coyote at the end of _Rolling Thunder_. After her father's death, earlier in that episode, Mark tried to persuade her to pursue her plan to go to law school.

Many thanks to Lynn for an expeditious beta. Cheri says at least one phone call was made from the gate house in the first half of season one, so that makes this AU.

**Post Script**

by L.M.Lewis

_Sept. 19__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_They don't make a thank you card that covers this—so you're stuck getting a letter from me. Just like the good old days, huh? Okay, maybe not that bad. Nobody's going to read this one over before it goes into outgoing—not that I'd put it past Hardcase, but I'm putting it straight into the mailbox myself._

_Anyway, I was all the way home before I realized I hadn't really thanked you for it—the Coyote, I mean. I still can't get over it. I think it's maybe the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Well, maybe your dad offering me a chance to drive it, that might have been the nicest, and I want you to know, I'd give anything to have him back for you, to have all of the past few days not have happened. _

_But they did, and I'm sorry, and I also want you to know I'll always be there for you, hell or high water, just like Flip was there for me. Well, I guess I won't be __there__ for you. I'll be here. And I haven't got a phone yet. I'm staying in this gatehouse, which is nice, but no phone. I think maybe Hardcase likes it that way and, anyhow, I can't afford to have one hooked up right now. So it'll have to be letters for a while._

_I've got to run now. Hedges. A lot of them. I'll write though, I promise. _

_Mark_

_00000_

_Sept. 26__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_He's crazy. I'm serious about this. I'm going to wind up back in the slammer and worse still, he'll be right there next to me._

_You know that mobster guy who wrote that book that just came out, the best seller? Turns out Hardcase knows him. The guy knows everybody. Well, the mobster had a son, and the son got kidnapped, and the guy asked the judge to help get him back. Long story short, we had to do a little burglary over at the police impound. I can see it—you're rolling your eyes. Listen, it wasn't __my__ idea. He's__crazy__. But, anyway, we did it, and got clean away, and got the mobster's son back, and no harm, no foul. But then he wants to go confess to the burglary. He did it, too. And he wanted me to fess up right alongside him. He's crazy. _

_But, well, it all turned out okay. He's still upset though. He says even though we had permission to be there, we didn't __know__ we had permission, so that makes us guilty. I had to go trim some hedges just to keep from slugging him._

_Mark_

_P.S. Thanks for the card and the brownies. I dunno. I don't feel much like 29. I live with the Lone Ranger, do chores, and get an allowance. And I still don't have a phone. But the brownies were great. Hardcastle liked 'em, too._

_00000_

_Oct. 10__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_I met the guy who used to do the hedges here. His name is J.J. Beale. Though I don't know if he ever actually got around to doing any chores. He ran off pretty quick after he got here. Hardcase hunted him down—all the way to New Orleans—and tossed him back in prison. He broke out yesterday and the judge went after him again—well, him and me. We went after him. We chased him all over the place, but where we wound up finally catching up to him was right here, at the estate, and he'd taken Sarah hostage. Did you know Hardcase keeps guns out by the pool? Is any of this making any sense? I know it sounds crazy. But, anyway, Sarah's okay, and Beale is back in prison._

_Other than that it's been pretty okay week. I finally got the mower working right. I think nobody's overhauled it in a couple of years._

_Mark_

_00000_

_Oct. 16__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_It's late, and I haven't had much sleep the last couple of days, so I'll keep this short. I would have written earlier, but I think my hands were still shaking some. _

_There was this woman. Hardcase wanted to know why guys she was friendly with wound up dead. So I got friendly with her. You can probably figure out which way this is going, but this time, I've got to say, it was my idea. Turns out there was a police captain who was using her to get the dirt on mob guys, and to protect her cover, she'd just set some other poor sap up to take the fall while she slipped out looking clean. I was supposed to be the next sap. I'll bet you're saying I have a lot of natural qualifications for the job. _

_Anyway, Hardcastle showed up in the nick of time. He still hasn't explained to me how he does that. Maybe it's better that I don't know. I'd rather think he's got everything under control all the time and just leave it at that._

_The crooked police captain—Hardcastle got him busted, too. The guy shot an unarmed kid a whole bunch of years ago and the judge never forgot it. It was in his files, but I don't think he had to look that one up. _

_I'm okay. Like I said, the judge showed up in time. He's good at that._

_Mark_

_00000_

_Nov. 23__rd__, 1983_

_Barb, _

_I wanted you to be the first to know. Well, maybe not exactly the first—Hardcastle was there when the phone rang and I had to get his permission and—you're not going to believe this. Denco racing—Denny Collins' outfit, the auto parts guy—this is amazing, they want me to be their driver for the rest of this series. I checked. They're up in points. They've got some hot engines and they're backing their team to win—me—__my__ team. Hardcastle said okay. I can't believe this. Look, I've got to head over there tomorrow, get some laps in, get the feel of it again, meet the people. I'll call you from there. Can you believe this? I never thought I'd get another shot after your dad died. Damn, I didn't mean it like that. Flip meant more to me than that. But you understand, don't you? What this means. I can't believe this. It's finally happening._

_Mark_

_00000_

_Nov. 30__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_Yeah, I know I didn't call. Sorry. I figured you heard. It was on the news, I think. Maybe not down there, though. _

_I'm an idiot to think they wanted me because of my driving record. It was the other record they were interested in. They wanted a guy who'd sit down, shut up, and drive. And that would've been me, I'm pretty sure, if the judge hadn't been standing right there, giving it all the once-over. I'm an idiot and a fool._

_It's some kind of jinx, I think. It's got to be. Stolen cars, stolen parts. The whole set-up was crooked. Hardcase said it smelled fishy right from the start. Oh, Barb, if I just could've won a couple of races—after that it wouldn't have mattered. I would've had my foot back in the door. But Hardcastle had to go after them and he rattled them so much that they tried to take him out. He was lucky I got there in time. _

_So we busted Collins, and his crew, too. BMW's are once again safe to roam the streets of Beverly Hills. I should just face it. I'll never get another chance—an idiot, a fool, __and__ a has-been._

_Mark_

_00000_

_Dec. 6__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_Did you get the postcard from San Rio? Probably not yet. I only mailed it a couple of days ago, but after that things started happening pretty fast and now we're home. For a while though, I thought we weren't going to get back at all. Hardcastle wound up in the slammer. Drugs. He was framed. Okay, I didn't have to tell you that, right? So there he is, in the denims and on the wrong side of the bars, telling me how we'd just have to let the wheel of justice grind him out of there. Yeah. San Rio. _

_I used a helicopter. It was kind of interesting. I'd never been up in a helicopter before. Anyway, Aggie was great—she was the pilot and I think she likes the judge. They met over a couple of coconuts by the hotel pool. She must like him, because she helped me bust him out. _

_This probably isn't making a whole lot of sense, but we're both back, and the gun runner we went down there after is sitting in a jail in San Rafelo, waiting to be extradited. _

_I like Aggie. I think the judge likes her, too. _

_Mark_

_P.S. Do you think you'd be able to come for Christmas? Hardcastle said he thought it was a good idea, too._

_00000_

_Dec. 17__th__, 1983_

_Dear Barbara,_

_That's okay, I thought you might have other plans already. This must be a crazy time for you, getting ready to start school again. _

_Things are pretty quiet here. I met someone the judge knew, from way back. He'd gotten 25-35 on an armored car robbery and Hardcastle was the judge who sentenced him. I would've thought the guy would spit in his eye, even after all this time—twenty-five __years__. I don't know. I can't even imagine it. But he was just old, and tired, and alone. The judge got him out of a jam, and made sure he had a little money to get started again, so maybe he won't get the urge to do something stupid and wind up spending his golden years back inside. I can sort of see it, after twenty-five years and all, that maybe that'd be the only home he knew. Maybe a person can get used to it. It might seem comfortable after a while._

_Sarah went up to stay with her sister for a while. Her sister's sick. So it's just me and Hardcastle here. We've been taking turns cooking, and neither one of us is very good at it, though I've got to say, the judge makes a pretty mean chili._

_Mark_

_P.S. I almost went with the 'Santa getting a speeding ticket' card but I thought that was kind of obvious, so here I am, Mr. Traditional with the snow scene. Got a wreath on the gatehouse door and everything._

_00000_

_Dec. 31__st__, 1983_

_Dear Barb,_

_Hope you had a nice visit out east. I miss Daytona sometimes, hard to believe it's been almost ten years._

_Hey, I've got a phone now, or I will soon. A Christmas present, I think. Hardcastle said it was because he was tired of shouting out the front door for me every time I got a call, but I really don't get all __that__ many calls. Most people who might want to call me get nervous when he answers the phone. Anyway, I'll call you with the number as soon as it's hooked up. _

_And Happy New Year to you. Got any resolutions? I was thinking maybe I'd try to go a whole year without getting arrested. It was three times in the past four months. I think that's maybe a record, even for me. Depends on whether you count juvie or not. _

_Nothing exciting planned for tonight. I have an invitation to watch 'Stagecoach', but that'll be over before midnight. I'll probably be back here by then. Wherever I am, I'll lift a glass—Auld Lang Syne and all that. I think of him just about every day—heck, every time I climb in the Coyote. Okay, maybe not when Hardcase is hollering at me to take off after some bad guys, but __most__ of the time when I get in it._

_But I have to say, it's been a very strange year. If you'd asked me last New Year's Eve where I'd be today, I couldn't in a million tries have come up with this. _

_A lot of ups and downs for me the past twelve months—maybe just downs for you. But despite it all, we landed on our feet. Your dad would be proud of you—me too, at least I hope so._

_Good luck on starting school again, and wish me luck, too, on my resolution. _

_Your friend, always,_

_Mark_

**Author's Postscript: **The New Year's resolution lasted three months.


End file.
